“Let’s sleep on the beach tonight!” It was a spontaneous moment. Three out of four of my grandchildren were eating their first dinner together this summer at The Gathering, or “Lake House” as they have called it since they were toddlers. Perhaps the idea came from three years ago when we lay on a hard, damp beach ground and identified constellations, until cold and sore, we came in about 11:30. Maybe it came later that August when they lay on the more comfortable Bongo with their aunt and mother and watched shooting stars during the Perseid Meteor Shower. (The Bongo is our inflatable raft with a trampoline like surface. We bring it off Lake Michigan each night because of the powerful winds and waves and “tie it up” on the beach.)
Wherever the idea came from, they were ready!! As the sun set Claire, 12, and her cousins, Gabi, 13, and Drew, 10, collected lots of bug spray and flashlights, plenty of fleece blankets, sleeping bags, and pillows galore; including the ones in the guest bedroom which I suggested might not be needed. I was having more reservations than just pillows. Was this really a good idea? All night? More than a bedroom away? Our beach is isolated with sparsely placed homes…but still what could happen out there?
But I remembered reading Richard Louv’s Last Child in the Woods, “For a whole generation of kids, direct experiences in the backyard, in the tool shed, in the fields and woods, has been replaced by indirect learning through machines.” (67) I remembered a November, 30, 2009, Time magazine article about over parenting and the picture of the mother wrapping her child in saran wrap. And when I taught I often told parents to “give their children wings.” It was time for me to listen to the words of the experts, and even remember my own words.
So with lingering hugs good night I left them there on the beach with the setting sun and the rising stars. I muttered a silent prayer as I walked slowing back into the Lake House’s security. I still placed bets on how long they would last, even on the more comfortable, warmer Bongo.
How about all night? At my midnight visit I heard their voices echoing incredible awe and wonder. Their eyes on the sky, they couldn’t get enough of all the stars. The Big Dipper was right above them, and they were searching for its companion, the Little Dipper. They were eager to share how they shined their flashlights on the black sky seeing how far the beam would carry. They found it fascinating how a star would suddenly disappear or “appear out of nowhere.” The girls reported the closest they had gotten to “scared” was when Drew jumped off the Bongo several times to catch wolf spiders via flashlight,
Even though Drew did declare it was “freaky at night,” all three mentioned the importance of being together with some “great cuddling, cousin moments.” Gabi felt really happy when “Claire used me as a teddy bear.” Claire said they kept sliding together. At times elbows kept it from being that comfortable. And gulls and crows made lots and lots of noise all night!
At my two o’clock visit I shined my flashlight on the Bongo. No one moved. A muddle of blankets and bodies, the cousins snuggled together, secure with their memories and each other. It was that moment I knew God was watching over my dear sweethearts. I need not worry, far be it from me to doubt His presence and star power.
